


Wanted: Blanket Robber and Angel Accomplice

by CodenameIanto



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Blanket Stealing, In a sense, M/M, Pillow Fights, Pure Unadulterated Fluff, blanket burritos, dean is a "top", haha - Freeform, what more need i say
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-25
Updated: 2015-07-25
Packaged: 2018-04-11 03:21:03
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 961
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4419248
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CodenameIanto/pseuds/CodenameIanto
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dean always steals the covers and Castiel has had enough. Bonus points for pillow fights and sickening fluff.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Wanted: Blanket Robber and Angel Accomplice

Castiel had spent more nights than anyone could guess watching over Dean Winchester. The sorrow and weight of the world always seemed to evaporate as he slept (fewer hours than he should, but at least, when Castiel was there, the nightmares stayed away). And for those few hours, the brightness of Dean’s soul would shine through his face.

Now that they were married, with a house, with a dog (Dean’s idea) and a kitten (Cas’ idea), living, like Sam said, “an apple-pie life”, there was no need for Castiel to watch over his righteous man. They were safe, and the feeling would never get old. Seeing peace on Dean’s face even in his waking hours would never get old. But Cas watched over Dean anyway. He was beautiful in sleep. And try as he might to deny it, Cas had...ulterior motives. These ulterior motives were far from poetic, far from romantic, and in fact, quite lacking in dignity. But nonetheless, they could not be ignored. 

Dean was a blanket hog. There was no other way to put it. Seeing Dean all wrapped up in his self-made blanket burrito was, at first, adorable. But while Cas didn’t technically need the blankets to keep warm, they provided a comforting weight and a good excuse for proximity to Dean. He had grown used to them, even grown fond of them. But hardly an hour after Dean had fallen asleep, Cas was left with a fairly significant barrier between Dean and himself. This posed an important problem: the blankets were illegally impeding his cuddle time. This infraction could not continue.

Confrontations with Dean led nowhere. He was unable to accept that he participated in such activities, firmly arguing, “No way. ‘Burrito-ing’ isn’t even a word, Cas.” Clearly, it was time for Cas to take matters into his own hands. 

That very night, after Dean did indeed create his customary cocoon, Cas was ready. He had a plan. If he could simply wake Dean up in the midst of his own personal blanket nest, he would be forced to agree, and then to change his habits so that they could cuddle without such obstacles. But as the Winchesters knew well, things didn’t have a way of working out like that.

It was around midnight when Cas woke Dean up with a gentle kiss. Dean, while quite enthusiastic about the kiss itself, was not so pleased to be woken up. After quick reassurances that nothing was wrong, Dean looked about as baffled as a half-asleep person can look. “Why, exactly, did you wake me up, then?” he asked.

“Your denial means nothing. You have created your own evidence; you set your own trap. Admit it, Dean. You are a blanket stealer,” Castiel informed him solemnly.

“Are you serious? That’s what this is about? That’s what you woke me up for?” Too late, Cas noticed the mischievous sparkle in his husband’s eyes as he pulled himself out of his blanket wrap. Actually, he kind of just writhed and flopped until the blankets loosened enough for Dean to perform a comical dance move that Sam had recently demonstrated for them. He was pretty sure it was called the Worm.

Having finally and with great effort extricated himself from his prison, Dean contemplated revenge. Not only was he woken up in the middle of the night for some ridiculous “evidence”, he had completely humiliated himself trying to escape from those silly blankets. Vengeance was necessary. Dean’s eye fell upon his pillow. Large, soft, and ever-so-slightly damp with drool that couldn’t possibly be his, it was the perfect weapon.

Cas was startled by the sudden impact of something soft and suspiciously wet hitting his arm. Dean was clutching his pillow with a crap-eating grin. Sam had briefed Cas on the concept of “pillow fights” several months ago, when Charlie had seized on this odd activity as an excellent way to introduce herself to an angel of the Lord. 

Well. This challenge could not go unanswered. Not when Cas had a plump, flannel-wrapped pillow leaning comfortably on his knee. Before he knew it, he was wielding a Common Pillow as a fearsome weapon, catching Dean on the chest, back, thighs, and occasionally, a decent whap! right to the face. But he himself was not unscathed. His loyal husband proved an admirable opponent, but he was leaving his left side open to attack. As Cas lunged for the unprotected region, Dean suddenly lost his balance on the unsteady surface of the mattress, and toppled forward- right into Castiel’s outstretched arms. Dean’s weight and momentum knocked them both right over the edge of the bed.

Cas had landed flat on his back on the ground, Dean lined up perfectly on top of him, fingers clutching Cas’ bony shoulders. The angel had his arms locked around Dean to protect him. There was a slightly awkward silence in which Dean nearly went cross-eyed trying to focus on the deep blue eyes hardly a centimeter from his own. Finally, Cas spoke up in his quiet, serious voice: “I believe this would be classified as a draw.”

Dean chuckled. “Yeah, Cas, whatever you say,” and he shifted slightly so that his elbows would no longer be digging into Cas’ ribs. He wobbled slightly, and- perhaps accidentally, probably not- his lips landed directly on Cas’. Eventually, they helped each other up (the floor was not the most comfortable place for this, although neither man was complaining) and, in between kisses, Cas explained the real reason the blanket-burritos bothered him.

Dean, however, came up with a perfect solution. He still occasionally (usually) woke up swaddled in neatly tucked blankets, but it was even sweeter with a certain messy-haired angel clinging to him inside the little world of soft flannel.

**Author's Note:**

> A sickeningly fluffy gift fic. I will not apologize.  
> Prompt was "Marriage AU where Person A always steals the covers and Person B has finally had enough. Bonus if a pillow fight ensues" from otpprompts.tumblr.com  
> And duh. I do not own Supernatural.


End file.
